


My World Right Next To Me

by Big_Geek



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galaxy Garrison, Gay Awakening, Gen, Pining James, i am sooo tired, just to expose Griffin's fathers nature, this just proves how shit i am at writing romance, transphobic slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Geek/pseuds/Big_Geek
Summary: James Griffin has a crush.A crush on the flirty, obnoxious, caring, beautiful Lance McClain.A boy...





	My World Right Next To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just note, I am so tired. I wrote this before. But I cannot remember what exactly what I wrote. However, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> With the transphobic slur, it's only used once to expose the cunt of a father Griffin has. I don't know if I have to put in a warning for it, but I will anyway. I do hope you enjoy this, I may not have written this at a hundred percent but I just needed to write something other an essays and statistics. 
> 
> I don't this is finished, I'll probably write a second chapter. 
> 
> P.S. this is heavily inspired by I'm willing to wait for it, I'm willing to wait for you by ThePackWantsTheD. An amazing fic. I highly suggest if you're open to new ships.

At first glance, Lance Charles McClain is interpreted as annoying, unprofessional and the most likely to kill their crew members in a mission. Iverson says so, other professors say so. Always so happy, always obnoxious, too flirty, never serious. What James can say is, that he regrettably thought that at first.   
  
For starters, James hated Keith Kogane, for his ability to absorb information like a sponge, yet continues to be disrespectful as he was in middle school despite the Galaxy Garrison as a military school. And that he was just a huge dick. James, however, was fond of Lance McClain.   
  
James took a second glance. Behind the front Lance put forward, he noticed that the shorter cadet always put others before himself, lifted everyone’s spirits in the use of complimenting pick-up lines and enthusiasm, once even took another cadet’s failure as his own and held onto Iverson’s wrath. Then he looked closer.  
  
The blue jewels that were his eyes glowed in mischief, but an underlying tone of care. His unblemished skin held together to prevent a smirk from growing, but had the history of countless smiles and laughter, like it is forever in a grin. The freckles that decorated his cheekbones and sharp nose look like the constellations than the “horrific” dots that he overheard him say one day to another cadet that wore an orange headband.   
  
Heat crawled up his neck and settled in his cheeks when he noticed the butterflies in his stomach at every glance Lance sends his in his general vicinity even it isn’t even at him, the blush that refused to stay down when Lance passed him in the halls.  
  
James Griffin has a crush.   
  
A crush on the flirty, obnoxious, caring, beautiful Lance McClain.   
  
A boy.  
  
  
  
Despite what the movie’s say, eating entire tubs of ice-cream does not help the dread in his stomach at the mere thought of McClain. Not even eating it feverishly that it gave another Commander a stunned look as she approached him behind the hangars that held historically innovative aircraft. She didn’t step forward, she merely turned on her heel and left stiffly.   
  
A guy.   
  
He, James Griffin, has a crush on a guy. Said guy being Lance McClain.   
  
Now he stares at the blank wall of his one cadet only dorm room sitting on his desk chair awaiting the annual family talks he has every Friday night.   
  
These talks never go well. They never have. It was his mother’s only choice to actually keep his fuck up of a family together. His brother is never in the picture, he ran off two years prior and hasn’t contacted home since. His mother was usually drunk having to listen to her drunken rambles every Friday night. His father was never there. Never has been, never will be. Too busy keeping rapists, drug suppliers and hate crime criminals out of jail than chat and talk to his youngest son. Not that James wanted to talk to his father anyway. His little sister was the only person that he chatted to freely, but she was always too busy trying to keep up their father’s academic expectations that she was always sick.   
  
Now by the suspicion that he is gay. He is terrified. His homophobic father would know already, he always does. Like the one time, he freely chatted with a member of the LGBTQ community. His father stalked right up to him, slapped him and yelled out, "tranny", dragging the tearful eleven-year-old James Griffin behind him. It was the one memory that haunted him sometimes.   
  
The screen flashed into the usual image of his mother, drunk, illuminating his darkened room. The dark eye bags, smeared make-up and drooping eyes. The background of his large in-home library that housed all his father legal novella’s.   
  
That Friday night was filled with boring rambles of “that bitch” Mary and her man-whore of a husband.   
  
  
  
“I like you”  
  
 _What the FUCK was he doing! STOP STOP STOP_

“Do you want to go watch a movie this weekend?”  
  
 _OH-H MY GOD!_  
  
The corridor was empty, thank god. Lance McClain himself leaning against the bland wall, a deep blush on his cheeks and his eyes swimming with a multitude of emotions. James couldn’t identify what McClain was feeling, despite all the observant looks he had sent to Lance’s direction, burned every emotion into his brain.  
  
His heartbeat faster than it ever has before. He was scared.   
  
What if Lance says no? And tells the entire campus. It will go towards his father at some point and he’ll be disowned. This was the end of the line.  
  
How did even get to that position in the first place?  
  
Start with a shitty morning, shitty lesson and a shitty punishment for daydreaming. Why? Because his brain would not shut up. Every night, Lance, Lance, Lance. His thoughts getting worst. Leading towards less than unsavoury situations in the morning, making him glad that his father got him his very own room. Having him have a freezing, cold shower in peace.   
  
He hated being fifteen. So, freaking hormonal. So, freaking stupid.   
  
Then, after dinner, his stupid ass followed McClain out of the cafeteria to ask about the homework and what it was, as his daydreaming made him miss the entire thing. The question dies on his throat as he watches Lance lean against the wall to wait for him to hurry up. Now the only thing on his mind was that he liked him. And that was what came out of his mouth the moment he got close enough. The immediate panic after those words moves towards the internal script he prepared himself from middle school when he would ask girls out. But, this very moment was the most panicked he had ever been when asking someone out.   
  
This situation later brought him to the realisation that he was, in fact, very freaking gay.   
  
Over the year at the Garrison. Lance had a growth spurt. Now at the same height as he was, his face a lot more mature but his childish nature still a part of him. The first word in his mind is; hot. Lance Charles McClain is hot. Now he wasn’t shy to think it, not to speak it, but to think it.   
  
Silence reigned between them. Both red and embarrassed.   
  
_He’s not gay._  
  
That was the worst thought he could possibly imagine. He was about to step back and run, wait until the entire student body know. But, Lance replied with the most amazing answer he had ever heard.  
  
“Yeah”, a pause, “I’ll love too”  
  
  
  
That Saturday night, the two snuck out of the Garrison. In dark jeans and cotton tees, an outfit that James spent forty minutes choosing. That first time he had ever done another this rebelling, he was almost too anxious to even function, but Lance was there. And he cooled any nerves he had with the action of just looking at him with those precious, crystal eyes.   
  
But due to the many, almost, guard patrol run-ins, they missed their movie.   
  
With drooping shoulders, James was ready to turn back. However, Lance wasn’t.  
  
With a new fire in Lance’s eyes, the other boy grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him down the streets, giggling. Lance’s cold hands slide into his palms sending butterflies to flutter. James watches Lance search. For what? He didn’t know. But, a bit of him was excited.   
  
Eventually, Lance stopped. The gaping mouth of an alleyway, it’s looming shadow’s sending chills up his spine. The Cuban smiled wider, with a glint in his eyes.   
  
“You coming?”  
  
He followed him into the alley, his heart beating fast and his hands shaking. For all his life, he wanted to be a fighter pilot, but walking into a dark alleyway had him fidgeting with nerves. Foul odours emitting from the piles of trash and ammonia-soaked walls, in some parts, spotting syringes under empty fast food packaging.   
  
The clinking of hollowed out metal brought him from his observations. James eyes, adjusted to the light, spotted the younger man bringing down a ladder from the fire-escape. The grinding of rusted metal made his ears bleed and his teeth to grind.   
  
Lance huffed and began to climb, all the while, avoiding his curious gaze. James watched him ascend. The denim jacket McClain wore to this date waving in the breeze as a current of wind swept through the alley. The garbage on the floor followed.   
  
The fire-escapes landing creaked with disuse, and for a moment, he wondered if Lance was going to collapse with it. If it did. Blue eyes watched from up high as the boy leaned against the railing.   
  
“Trust me”, Lance said. Reluctantly, he followed. To the roof. To the twentieth floor.   
  
Sweat and exhaustion didn’t damper the sight he saw. The beautiful lights of the city sparkled, lighting up the night sky. Neon signs from the ground mixed with warm yellow. The distant cheers and blinding light from the stadium further on the other side of the city reached the building. There was a football game that night, he recalled, and it was a big one, one that was live on every television in America. Sirens were heard, and drunken laughter from the streets.   
  
Lance once again took his hand, he led him to the edge. The view was bigger, no other apartment buildings obstructing the view.   
  
At once, the city lights dimmed, and he knew exactly was happening, how did he forget? Before World War Three, one of the cities in China, Hong Kong, had light shows every night. Lasers from one skyscraper to another. Plaht city copied that. Light shows were on once a month.   
  
There may have not been stars above, but there was one right next to him. That was Lance’s pick-up line. A line that they used back and forth in their relationship. It was their thing. In the undescribed view of the city and desert, lights emitting on the skyscrapers in the distance. In the mixture of blue, yellow, green and purple. The buildings danced to imaginary music, swirling and dimming.   
It was beautiful.  
  
That date turned into a second and a third.   
  
Before they knew it.   
  
They were something that their hearts couldn’t even comprehend.   
  
Within the next three months, he had never felt so full. So, full of love.

**Author's Note:**

> Big Geek  
> https://biggeek2351.tumblr.com/


End file.
